


this mess was yours (now your mess is mine)

by intothenowhere



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14133918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothenowhere/pseuds/intothenowhere
Summary: The last thing Jemma expects is her new neighbor to end up being Leopold Fitz, the man who she shares an intimate past with. To complicate matters, he by chance ends up working at her lab.As the two rekindle their friendship, old feelings return, and Jemma finds herself falling for him all over again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fitzsimmmonns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzsimmmonns/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NIKKI!
> 
> I've been so excited to share this with you since I thought of the idea, and I hope I've done it justice. My original goal was to write you a Mondler AU, but since I've only seen Friends out of order, I thought a neighbors AU would be best.
> 
> This teeny author's note won't do everything I want to say justice, but I am glad to call you my friend, my sestra, the Daisy to my Jem. Keep being awesome, babes.
> 
> Massive thanks to Adrienne (dekeshaw) for betaing this fic/and supporting it, and to Kris (leopoldjamesfitzs) for supporting me and cheering me on.

 

> _Talking like we used to do_  
>  _It was always me and you_  
>  \- Vance Joy, **_Mess is Mine_**
> 
>  

The first thing Jemma Simmons noticed when she arrived at her apartment (number #318, with a cheery spring themed wreath hanging on the front), was that the apartment door across from hers was ajar.

Ever the curious creature, Jemma edged away from her own home, drifting to the foreign apartment. There weren't any signs of a break in, so that ruled out buglars, but there weren't any sounds emitting from the inside, either.

"Hello?" Jemma asked, her voice loud amongst the quiet, as she knocked thrice on the door. "Anyone here?"

No answer.

Taking a deep breath, Jemma pressed the door further open and stepped inside.

Someone was definitely moving in - or out, Jemma didn't keep track of her neighbors, since she was always up at the lab well into the wee hours of the morning - given all the taped boxes, each with hastily scribbled descriptions on the sides ("tools" read one, "sweaters" said another, and, most intriguing, "doctor who boxsets" on another).

"Hello?" Jemma called again, and this time a distinctly Scottish voice hollered back from another room:

"Look, I've not got any money, and I'm heavily armed, so if you're a burglar, go somewhere else." A beat. "Please?"

"I'm not a burglar," Jemma called back, trying to stifle a laugh. "I'm from across the hall...I saw your door was open." She turned around to point at it as proof of her word, then turned back as she heard footsteps enter the living room --

Jemma inhaled sharply, her stomach and heart swooping impressively in unison, as Leopold Fitz ("engineering...you must be biochem, yeah?") stopped in front of her, mouth agape, blue eyes wide in shock.

(She hasn't seen those blue eyes since the night before graduation, in a twin size mattress, staring lovingly up at her...)

"Is...is that really you?" He whispered finally, regaining his composure only slightly, looking as dazed as Jemma felt, as she gave him a once-over. He was wearing a ridiculously faded tee with a logo she couldn't make out, the same warm gray cardigan she use to steal from him in college. His curls were no longer unruly, instead he'd apparently cut his hair, and - most impressively - now had a scruff that made him look older.

With great difficulty, Jemma forced away all the memories (the good and the bad), and managed a wan smile. "Of course it is, Fitz." Who else would I be?

"Good, I'm glad--" Fitz let out a laugh that was more of a sharp exhale than anything resembling a laugh, and he motioned at her. "It's g-good to see you, I mean it's been...." He swallowed, and Jemma saw the memories flash in his eyes before he quickly steered the conversation away and landed on, "How've you been?"

"Good," Jemma replied, wishing with growing intensity with every passing moment that the ground would crumble around her feet and swallow her whole.

"Good, that's good. You deserve good." Fitz rambled, going to lean against the couch and missing the mark, and losing his balance.

"How about you? Have you been well?" Jemma asked, fighting the primal urge to run run, run.

Fitz, having regained his balance, nodded a little more vigorously than perhaps necessary. "Yeah, been great! Made some inventions, bounced from a bunch of different labs...got a cat....and you didn't ask for specifics, so I'm going to stop talking now." Fitz clamped his mouth shut like his entire life depended on his being quiet.

"I'm glad you've done well," Jemma said as sincerely as she could muster. She was happy for him, of course, but there was still a twinge of bitter regret lingering like a sour taste in her mouth.

Fitz seemed surprised, and Jemma wondered if he expected antagonism from her. She really hoped he didn't, because he really hadn't done anything to deserve it. "Thanks,", he said at last, his voice even and his gaze unwavering from hers for the first time.

They stared at each other for another long moment, the air between them thick with old goodbyes, unsaid words, and what ifs.

Jemma opened her mouth to say something - anything - to break the ungodly silence, but the chipper tune to her ringtone beat her to it.

"Sorry," Jemma said, reaching for her phone in her pocket. A glimpse at the caller ID told her it was Bobbi, and she held up the screen to show to Fitz. "I have to take this."

"Yeah, yeah." Fitz smiled, and her heart plummeted as she recalled all the previous times that smile was reserved for her. "See you around, Jemma."

She swallowed hard and nodded, then scurried out of the room, and into her own apartment, barely remembering to answer her still ringing phone.

As Bobbi furiously ranted about an argument she and her boyfriend had, Jemma's mind presided elsewhere. More specifically, it remained firmly in the apartment across the hall, focusing on a pair of kind blue eyes.

What on Earth was she going to do?

* * *

 

The next morning, Jemma managed to escape her apartment without bumping into Fitz, which was just as well: she really didn't feel like going into work focusing on him than her project.

As soon as she entered SHIELD Industries, Jemma felt remarkably better. Old wounds and even older torches was something she couldn't control, but here in the lab, she had calculations and numbers and the periodic table: those were things she could understand, control.

She liked it that way.

Jemma slipped on a lab coat and began to grab the samples she was meant to look over this morning. Being the head of the biochem department sometimes meant she didn't get the chance to work on her own as often as she liked, and she thrilled at the idea of even a few moments between her and a microscope.

About thirty minutes into her work, the room disrupted into quiet noise and shuffles. Jemma looked up in time to see Doctor Anne Weaver step into the room, looking as calm and serious as ever. There was a strict kind of warmth to her that Jemma admired.

"I hate to disrupt your work, but I've got some news. As you're all aware, our previous head of engineering - Alphonso Mackenzie - recently moved to Columbia with his wife, the esteemed track runner, Elena Rodriguez."

Jemma nodded - she quite liked Mack, he had an air of an older brother, which eased some of her homesickness, as Jemma hadn't seen Colin Simmons in nearly three years.

"Thankfully, a young man - who happens to be friends with Alphonso - stepped up to take his place. He has an impressive resume, and even worked at Stark Industries for three years." Here, Weaver's voice turned savagely proud. Stark Industries was SHIELD's near mortal enemy, and Weaver absolutely loathed Tony Stark. The fact that one of his employees would even consider joining SHIELD was sure to make Weaver's year.

Weaver clapped her hands together, and peaked out the door to whisper something to the man on the other side. When she reappeared, a smile crossed her face. "May I introduce you all to Leopold Fitz, the new head of the Engineering Department."

The clean slide Jemma was holding clattered to the lab desk as her grip slackened in surprise, and a little bit of horror.

Fitz stepped into the room with a nervous expression on his face, dressed smartly in a gray suit, and a powder blue button up. He gave a bashful smile, which froze when his eyes landed on Jemma, and she could see the breath leave his lungs, as he stared in surprise and awe at her, like he couldn't believe she was here.

(She was having trouble believing he was here, too.)

She finally broke her gaze away from him, and focused solely on the slides in front of her, organizing them carefully. Despite her best attempts to ignore him, she can hear Fitz thanking Agent Weaver humbly for the opportunity.

She tightens her grip on the slides as his footsteps grow nearer, and then his voice, soft and breathy, right behind her: "Jemma..."

With a sharp inhale, Jemma swirled around to confront him, only to find him much closer than expected, and suddenly she couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Look, Jemma, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you worked here, too - god, I swear I'm not stalking you it only looks like it. SHIELD wanted an engineer and I was looking for a job, and the apartment building was the closest one by-"

"By foot, because you hate the train and you never catch the bus on time." Jemma finished for him, and Fitz nodded.

"I don't like things being so...awkward between us." He admitted, darting his eyes away from hers.

"It's going to be, for awhile." Jemma replied carefully; this morning, her goal had been to avoid Fitz as much as possible, but obviously the universe was against that happening...and Jemma really didn't want to imagine the rest of her life without him, even after all this time. "But I don't like it either," Jemma continued with a shaky breath. "And I would like to get to know you again."

Fitz's gaze shot back up to meet hers. "Really? I-I would, too."

"Let's start over, then." Jemma removed the glove from her hand, and extended it. "Jemma Simmons, head of the Biochem department."

Fitz smiled bashfully, his blue eyes lighting up with mirth. He took her hand in his. "Leopold Fitz, head of Engineering."

* * *

 

The road to recovery of her and Fitz's relationship was a surprisingly short one; although they never spoke of what happened between them before graduation, they happily shared what happened afterward during breaks over tea.

Fitz, apparently, had hopped from lab to lab in the few years after graduation, but when he got the job at Stark Industries, he'd loved it so much he couldn't think of leaving. "It wasn't until I realized they were more interested in military projects than peacekeeping ones, that I decided to bail. 'Course, six months after I left, Stark quit making weapons."

Fitz would gleefully listen to Jemma's history, occasionally butting in to make not unkind commentary, or dropping a joke that would make her laugh.

For the first time in six years, the feeling of being ever so slightly incomplete, like she was a puzzle with a missing piece, was gone, replaced with a feeling of being incandescently happy.

Her heart still ached sometimes when she thought of the almost that hung between them, the years of separation, but at the same time, she almost appreciated it. They were kids when that happened, and now they were adults. They'd changed in ways neither had ever imagined possible, and Jemma wasn't sure if they could've undergone those growths attached to each other's hip.

Slowly but surely, quick breaks for tea soon became shared lunches at Jemma's favorite coffee shop, which soon lead to chatting happily about their favorite books, and gleefully listening to each other's opinions on the recent season of Doctor Who.

It wasn't until one night two and a half months after Fitz moved in, as the two of them climbed their staircases in comfortable, tired silence, before parting ways till morning, that Jemma realized she finally had her best friend again.

And with that blissful thought, she fell into an easy sleep, the smile she always reserved for Fitz on her face, as she dreamt of blue eyes and soft cardigans.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma and Fitz have a heart to heart about what happened between them: Jemma comes to a startling realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, major kudos to @dekeshaw for betaing and @leopoldjamesfitzs for support!
> 
> The third and final chapter will be posted next Thursday!

> _Do you like walking in the rain?_
> 
> _When you think of love, do you think of pain?_
> 
> _You can tell me what you see_
> 
> _I will choose what I believe_
> 
> \- Vance Joy, Mess is Mine

It was well into the third month of her and Fitz's newly rekindled friendship that they finally broached the subject of what happened the night before graduation.

 

Jemma hadn't even meant to bring it up, but after a few beers at Rae's, she and Fitz had begun happily swapping stories from their past friendship in college, including Fitz's personal favorite about the bunny suit, and then they howled with laughter over his best impression of Jemma's ex, Milton.

Somehow, between bites of burgers and sips of beer, Jemma had cracked a comment about how he had no right to tease her for her clumsiness with a beaker after a night partying, when he himself had tripped on air and fell right onto her mattress mid-make out.

 

As soon as the comment left her lips, the air between them hung heavy, still. Fitz paused for a long moment, shoulders tense. There was no sense of awkwardness between them now, just a sense of unease and past hurt. 

 

At last, Fitz spoke, and his voice was laced with bitter humor: "I hoped it looked sexy. Guess not."

 

Jemma placed her hand on his arm, and squeezed his bicep. He turned his head to her, blue eyes soft in the warm glow of the overhead lights, and suddenly she was seventeen again, blouse half unbuttoned and Fitz underneath her, his hands gingerly roaming her back, as he kissed her inexpertly, but like she meant the world to him.

 

"It was you," Jemma whispered. "It was  _real._ That's what mattered at the time."

 

Fitz stared at her for a moment longer, then sat straighter in his chair, and turned his entire body toward her. "Jemma, I'm glad we're finally friends again, but...that night....we never talked about what happened."

 

Jemma swallowed, casting her eyes away as she turned to take another sip of her beer.

 

It wasn't the fact that they'd almost crossed the lines from friends to something in the romantic territory that made everything so awkward, it was the fact that...

 

Well, it was that  _almost._

 

"I didn't want to leave," Fitz whispered finally, and it was like the dam of emotions she'd been burying broke, overwhelming her as they swelled to the suface.

 

"So why did you?" Jemma snapped, tears blurring her vision as she turned to face him. "I went to the bathroom, and I came back, and you were  _gone._ No note, no goodbye,  _nothing._ I thought-" _I thought I pushed our relationship too far. I thought I ruined things between us._ "And then the next day, you didn't even come to graduation. I never heard from you that summer...I thought you were avoiding me."

 

Fitz sucked in a raggedy breath, and shook his head. "I wasn't avoiding you, Jem. I couldn't..." He sighed. "After you went to the bathroom, I got a call from my roommate... said my mother called, something about Holden being admitted to the hospital." 

 

Holden. Mairi Fitz's best friend, the only person besides her who knew Alistair Fitz and actively loathed what Alistair had done to Fitz and his self esteem. Holden who Fitz considered a father.

 

"Christ, Jemma, I didn't even  _think._ I don't remember leaving your room, or getting in my car but I did. And it was raining that night, you see?" Another deep breath, more ragged than the last. "My mobile rang and I went to grab it but it  _fell.._..I reached for it...rolled over into the wrong lane and nearly hit a incoming car. I swerved...and my car careened right into a lake."

 

Jemma inhaled sharply, keeping her eyes trained on Fitz, even though she could barely see him through tears.

 

"Dunno how long I was under there...too long, evidently...lost the oxygen to my brain, and it, uh, caused some damage to my temporal lobe. Had aphasia for awhile." He swallowed audibly. "That's why...why when I woke up, I didn't call you. I didn't want you...I didn't want you to think less of me."

 

In that instant, Jemma felt her heart break. She reached out and took Fitz's hand, urging him to meet her tearful gaze with his own.

 

"I would never have thought less of you, Fitz. Nothing could ever make me think less of you."

 

He stared at her slack jawed for a moment, suspicion in his eyes until he found whatever he was looking for in her gaze, and he nodded. "I know...I just...then I thought you only cared for me because of this." He tapped his forehead with his free hand.

 

"You were wrong," Jemma whispered. "I cared for you because of  _this."_  She reached out with her other hand, placing it on his chest, right over his heart. He stared down at her hand, like he was mystified by its presence. "I wish you didn't think you had to hide that from me, Fitz."

 

He smiled weakly. "I wish I hadn't, either."

 

And so, they both sat there, tucked away in their own world, unable to pull away from each other, until Rae told them she was closing up for the night, and that they had to leave.

 

Fitz gave Jemma his blazer as the first droplets of rain splattered to the ground, but neither made a move to run as the heavens opened up above them, drenching the two of them.

 

Instead, now unburdened by their past, the two of them laughed together as they splashed through puddles, and ran across the road to the other side, holding hands.

 

They didn't stop until they were outside their apartment building, their soaked clothes drenching the bit of dry pavement under the awning at the door.

 

The last bit of laughter died in Jemma's throat as she caught sight of him for the first time, and her heart seized. She knew him now, in ways she didn't when they were teenagers. She knew the parts about him that he hid from her before, the parts he was afraid she'd pass judgment on.

 

She hoped one day she could tell him of the broken puzzle pieces that made her who she was, hoped that he would still her as she was.

 

But as she caught the look in his eyes - so much like the look of adoration he use to give her, but somehow more mature - she realized he didn't  _need_ to know about the friends she'd lost, the man she had loved but wasn't  _in_ love with who died, and how the guilt that he died thinking she was in love with him, when really she didn't, nearly killed her. How she developed PTSD after someone broke into her apartment and held her at gunpoint...

 

She knew he didn't need to know, because he saw that already. Somehow, he saw it and knew it.

 

_Psychically linked,_ Jemma thought, taking an unconscious step forward. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, all of the sudden, and though the thought surprised her, she didn't try to deny it.

 

His eyes darted south from her eyes to her lips, and her heart damn near stopped in her chest. The flurry of emotions she'd felt for him came bubbling over the surface, a dizzying array of her adoration for this man, who insisted he needed a monkey for a pet but wound up with a cat instead, who loved her sandwiches, and always supported her when she needed it. The same man who, instead of celebrating his own job, took her for drinks to celebrate her being head of the biochem department.

 

Lost in their own bubble free of time, Fitz took a slow step toward her and her breath caught in her chest -

 

"Excuse me," said a voice as the front door opened, and Mr. Talbot walked out, butting in between them, and the moment between them ended just like that.

 

Fitz held the front door open for Jemma, and they ascended the staircase in disappointed silence. When they finally reached their floor, right before they were to part ways, Jemma finally whispered, "Fitz?"

 

He turned to face her, stopping his movement to unlock his door, and said, "Yeah?"

 

"Next time something like that happens...tell me." Jemma whispered. The idea of anything happening to Fitz - and her not knowing it - absolutely wrecked her.

 

"I will. Promise."

 

She nodded, and with a smile and a click of the front door, she left Fitz alone in the hallway, her heart hammering in her chest, as a single, wonderful, terrifying realization hit her: she was falling in love with him. Again.

 

* * *

 

In the coming weeks, Jemma found herself more attuned to Fitz's presence than ever before. She knew instinctively when he was walking up beside her, was able to pick up the sound of his voice among a crowd of people. She began to notice little things about him, as well: how when he was properly stressed about something, his hand would shake and his stutter - which he later explained was from the car accident - would return. How when he was thinking about something, he would stand like a pregnant woman; or when he explained something, he always used his hands to demonstrate. How, despite always wearing suits, he never wore ties. 

 

Jemma didn't bother cooking, or even ordering out. Instead, she reached for the container of ice cream in the fridge, and two spoons, and went to join Fitz on the couch, where he was already channel surfing. 

 

"Why can't they put something on other than  _Law and Order,_ or  _NCIS?_  Some people get tired of murder, do the networks not understand this?" Fitz complained.

 

"No, they don't." Jemma replied easily, already digging into her ice cream.

 

Fitz stabbed at the ice cream with his spoon as he said, "They constantly renew all the god awful shows that haven't been good since their first series, but the really great shows are constantly on the bubble for renewal. Why is that?"

 

"The world is filled with mysteries, some we may never understand, Fitz. Especially how TV networks work."

 

Fitz made a disgruntled noise as he viciously began to dig into the ice cream, and Jemma stole the remote from him to flip through channels. Eventually, they ended up watching a  _Planet Earth_ special on BBC America, and the two happily made commentary between spoonfuls of ice cream, their irritation with the day fading as fast as the daylight outside.

 

It wasn't until midnight that Fitz dozed off, scooted close to Jemma, his head tilted toward her shoulder but not touching it. He looked so peaceful, so at  _home,_ that it took Jemma's breath away.

 

She cursed herself for not trying to find him all those years ago, even if she'd done it because she thought he was ignoring her, that she believed maybe they were better off without each other.

 

She was wrong. Combined, they  _were_ twice as smart, but it was something more than that. They clicked in the best places, and differed in the most interesting ways. They were two sides of the same coin.

 

Jemma wouldn't change that for the world.

 

"I'm sorry we lost what we had then," Jemma whispered, unable to stop herself. Fitz didn't move, just kept sleeping, so she hurried on. "But I'm not going to let go of what we have now, alright? Maybe...maybe something's are inevitable. Maybe  _we_ are inevitable. Regardless of how, maybe we were meant to always be at each other's side."

 

She squeezed her eyes shut, and put her palm against her forehead. What on Earth was she thinking?

 

With a small sigh, she stood and stretched, then carefully laid a blanket over Fitz before retiring to her own room, her own mind a tireless maelstorm of her adoration of the man in the other room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma struggles with her growing feelings for Fitz, and seeks advice in a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the end of the road! I'm more than a little sad to see this AU go, but I've got more in store! I hope you've all enjoyed this!

> _Hold on, darling_
> 
> _This body is yours,_
> 
> _This body is yours and mine_
> 
> \- Vance Joy, _Mess is Mine_

 

It took Jemma Simmons six months to fall in love with Leopold Fitz.

 

Or, perhaps more accurately, it took her six months to realize she was _still_ in love with him.

 

It began slowly, and all at once. Casual glances his way became more frequent and definitely less casual; on the days she didn't see him (which were rare), she missed him so much that she wasn't sure how they went so many years without one another. 

 

His trips to her apartment grew more and more frequent, and they now had a weekly movie and game night that neither of them missed, always getting their lab work out of the way so they made it to Jemma's apartment in time.

 

(One game night went horribly wrong after a bottle of gin, an unfortunate amount of bravado, and a poker game gone wrong.)

 

Despite all these things, Jemma had been reluctant to name it  _love._ She knew she cared for Fitz a great deal, and once upon a time there'd been romantic implications, but....

 

Her feelings for Will had been some form of love, but they hadn't been wholely romantic. She loved him, yes, but she hadn't been  _in_ love with him. What if she made that mistake with Fitz?

 

Eventually, it got to the point where she could keep these questions to herself no longer, so she asked the only person she could think to.

 

"Bobbi, how did you know you loved Hunter?" Jemma asked one day over lunch, trying to sound casual but coming off as anything but.

 

Bobbi narrowed her eyes, and Jemma could  _feel_ her analyzing her, making her own conclusions. 

 

Finally, Bobbi sighed and sat her cup down, fixing Jemma with a kind stare. "This is about Fitz isn't it?"

 

"What? No, Fitz and I? We never-" _Except that we did_ "I mean-he and I...." Jemma cut herself off abruptly, because she was only digging a hole for herself, and Bobbi had that all knowing look in her eye. "Am I that obvious?" Jemma asked with a worried sigh.

 

At that, Bobbi cracked a smile. "Only to just about everyone but Fitz." 

 

Jemma dropped her gaze; for all the casual glances, touches, and the occasional accidental flirt, Fitz seemed utterly oblivious that his best friend and neighbor could be harbouring less than platonic feelings for him.

 

(Another reason Jemma was so hesitant to put a name to her feelings; if they were so obviously romantic, wouldn't Fitz have noticed them?).

 

"Do you think I'm in love with him?" Jemma whispered anxiously.

 

"Do you think you're in love with him?" Bobbi countered.

 

At this, Jemma finally broke down and confessed her fears to Bobbi, explaining all that had happened between her and Fitz. By the time she was done, the weight on her shoulders had lifted, and there were tears in her eyes.

 

"Wow," Bobbi breathed. 

 

"I know," Jemma agreed. "And I hate this constant limbo and second guessing myself. With my past boyfriends, I  _knew_ I liked them. But I don't think I was ever in love with them. And I worry that maybe I'm confusing past feelings, and the euphoria of having my best friend back, with...that." She couldn't begin to use the word love again; she'd used it so much that it had begun to lose all meaning.

 

"I've never been friends with a guy first. That alone has to add confusion on top of confusion." Bobbi paused, gathering her thoughts. "Love's hard to define, it's different for everyone. It's always been a roller coaster for me. Fast out of the gate, hit the drop, the turn, the loop, the screeching halt, then back in line to do it all over again."

 

Jemma looked down, a twist in her gut. She didn't want to get back in line; if she was in love with Fitz, then she wanted that to be  _it._ Her and Fitz, beside each other the whole damn time.

 

"But is the ride worth it?" Jemma finally asked, unable to stop herself.

 

"I'll let you know when it's over."

 

* * *

The answer came on a dreary Saturday morning, when Jemma heard a knock on her bedroom door.

 

Half asleep, and not quite alert she called out, "Hello?"

 

"It's me," Fitz said from the other side. "Can I come in?"

 

Jemma gave her consent, and the door clicked open as Fitz stepped through, holding a steaming cup in his hand, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. 

 

"Tea?" He asked, but from the tone of his voice, she knew he already knew her answer. He passed the cup along to her, and sat down at the edge of her mattress.

 

As Jemma brought the cup to her lips, the taste of Lady Grey and honey and milk hit her tongue, precisely the way she took her tea, but  _better_ somehow, knowing who made it, for no other reason than to....what? Make her smile?

 

He hadn't slept here last night, which meant he'd used the key she'd given him the week before to come over (before nine am, no less) to make her tea and bring it to her in bed.

 

And seeing him there....sitting at the edge of her mattress, a grey cardigan on and a loose tee with faded words, pinching the fabric of his jeans, as his light hair glowed like a halo in the morning light filtering in from her windows, brought her crashing back to all the times he'd come and brought her tea and sat with her when she was having a stressful week, or just because she wanted his company and so did he.

 

Her breath caught as something whispered inside of her,  _I love you._

"Jemma? You alright?" Fitz asked, and Jemma realized she'd been staring at him.

 

She averted her eyes quickly and breathed out in a shakey voice, "I'm fine. Thank you for the tea, Fitz."

 

She could feel herself pulling away, closing up, and she wanted to scream, but the terror that he might not feel the same way made her feel like she was drowning and she couldn't see the surface -

 

A hand on her shoulder. A breathy "hey." Someone prying the tea out of her hands and curving around her to sit it on her bedside table. A pair of blue eyes, open and kind, boring into hers.

 

"Jemma, what's wrong?" He had the same tone in his voice as he did when he found her having a panic attack a month ago from a nightmare of the burglary that happened last year.

 

_I love you, I love you, I love you, and I don't know if you love me._

Without thinking Jemma recoiled from his touch. Hurt flashed through his blue eyes, and Jemma suddenly wished he was better at hiding his emotions, as opposed to wearing them on his sleeve.

 

"Jem..." He trailed off, biting his bottom lip. "Did I do something wrong?"

 

_You made me fall in love with you._ "No, no, I just...." She was spiralling, and she couldn't find anything to grasp onto. She stood up out of bed, nearly tripping when her legs got tangled in the blankets. 

 

Fitz was staring at her, worry pulling his features taunt, and she could see him come to some conclusion. The look of utter heartbreak that followed it nearly killed her. "Jemma...is this too much? I know we agreed to let go of what happened between us, but if this..." He gestured between them and the bed. "If me being in here reminds you of... _that_ then I won't do it again. I didn't mean to push too fast, I'm sorry."

 

"No, no, Fitz, you didn't- it's not that. I mean, it is that but not in the way you think." Jemma took a deep breath. No matter how scared she was, she couldn't keep this a secret. She needed to tell him. They were spiralling away from the effortless friendship they'd rebuilt, she could feel it.

 

"Then how, Jemma? Make me understand, _tell_ me." Fitz said, standing up and taking a step forward. 

 

Jemma took a deep breath, her heart seizing in her chest, as the space between them grew smaller. She  _needed_ to tell him, wanted to, but the words wouldn't come....

 

"It might be easier if I showed you?" Jemma whispered at last, eyes searching his. Something passed across his face, and she wondered for a moment if he'd read her mind.

 

"G-go ahead." He said softly, accent thicker than normal, his gaze lidded, and that's when she knew that, like always, they were psychically linked.

 

She took another step forward, and stopped thinking altogether. Her hand snaked up his neck to his cheek, and she leaned forward to meet his lips. He didn't freeze like she expected; instead he met her lips eagerly in the middle, his brow furrowing in concentration, as he wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

 

Years of love and separation and longing crashed over them both, and their kisses grew deeper, more fevered, and the only sounds to be heard between them were deep, breathy sighs, as they explored this once forgotten side of their relationship.

 

As her fingers slid into his curls and they swayed in place, never breaking away, all Jemma could think was  _I love you, I love you, I love you._

When Fitz pulled away to stare at her wildly, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, she realized she'd said it aloud.

 

"You-you do?" He whispered, and her heart seized again with all her love for this brilliant, awkward, kind scientist: they were making out in her bedroom before eight am, and he was still uncertain of her feelings for him.

 

"I do," Jemma confirmed. "It's always been you, Fitz." She placed a hand on his cheek. "I can't imagine my life without you."

 

"That's good, cos I don't want to spend another day without you. I love you, Jemma Simmons." Fitz said with a tender smile, that Jemma quickly returned. They locked gazes for a moment that stretched on into eternity, but as they fell against each other again, time became null.

 

The tea on the bedside table was left unfinished.

 

* * *

 

"That the last of it?" Jemma asked after a _thud_ and a huff behind her. 

 

"Yep," Fitz said, wrapping his arms around his her waist and nuzzling her neck from behind. Jemma leaned into his touch, humming contently. "What's on the list?" Fitz asked, removing his mouth from her neck to peer over her shoulder to look at her clipboard.

 

"Litter for Newt, shaving cream for you, and more tea bags." Jemma answered. "I feel like I'm forgetting something, though."

 

"You are," Fitz said with a click of his tongue. He reached around and pulled the clipboard out of her hands.

 

She grinned, turning around to face him. He kept one hand on her waist as he tossed the clipboard on the couch, disturbing Newt from his nap. 

 

Fitz wrapped his other arm around her waist and Jemma placed both hands on his chest. He bumped noses with her and she gave him a tooth smile.

 

"Happy Anniversary, Jem." Fitz whispered.

 

"Happy Anniversary, babe." Jemma replied, reaching up to capture his lips with her own, incandescently happy that fate decided to let her reunite with her best friend.

 

 


End file.
